Chapter Text
Everyone in the city knew the moment they were lost. Around the table, Baekhyun’s family froze, and the fig Baekhyun had in his hand rolled out of his limp fingers onto the white linen tablecloth. The distant rumble grew louder and louder, like rolling thunder, until it was loud enough that the floor shook and the silverware rattled.
Baekhyun’s brothers and father were motionless for mere moments before they leapt to their feet, shouting at one another as they ran for armor and weapons. Next to him, Baekhyun’s mother grasped his arm, her fingers digging into his skin hard enough to hurt. Her eyes were wide when they met his, and they both flinched when a vase went crashing to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces when it hit the tile.
“Come with me, Baekhyun.” His mother pulled him to his feet, her hand still tight around his arm. “We will barricade ourselves upstairs.”
He followed her wordlessly, stealing glances out of the windows as they ran up the marble staircases to their rooms. Outside, the seeds of chaos were appearing. People who had been out when the sound came were skittering back inside, but the market was full of people who were nowhere near home. They were knocking on doors frantically, eyes darting left and right as they waited for the hammer to fall. The horrible rumbling noise had faded, but the wind was blowing in further evidence that they were no longer safe. Fine, gray dust drifted down slowly at first, but already it was beginning to gather on the ledges of the windows and the paved stone roads outside. When Baekhyun swallowed, he tasted a little of it on his tongue.
It was certain. The wall had fallen.
Heavy footsteps thundered behind them, and Baekhyun and his mother whirled around to see Baekhyun’s father hurrying to catch up with them. In his full set of armor, he resembled a scarab beetle, glittering and heavyset as he handed each of them a short, wickedly sharp blade that was used for sacrificing animals. “Take these.” He snapped, “Do not hide together. There’s a chance that if they find one of you alone, they will assume the rest of the house is empty. The boys and I will defend you both until our last breath, but if we should fail…” The final words seemed to catch in his throat, but he forced them through gritted teeth, “Death before honor.”
Blood rushed through Baekhyun’s veins, and he glanced down at the blade in his hand. His father kissed his mother, then turned to Baekhyun and grasped both cheeks between his hands and kissed his forehead before tearing away and leaving the two of them alone.
“Your father is right, we should not be found together.” The fingers around Baekhyun’s wrist tightened again before releasing him, “Go to your room, barricade the door, and then draw a bath. You…” her words were choked off by tears, and she was forced to take a long breath before she could continue, “You understand what you must do? If it sounds like they will get in?”
Baekhyun’s throat felt too dry and clogged with dust to answer, but he nodded obediently, clutching the hilt of his dagger. His mother was trembling when she pressed a kiss to his forehead in the same place that his father had kissed him moments ago. “I love you, Baekhyun.” She whispered, “You are the light of my life, and we will all see each other again when this is all over. Your father, your brothers, and both of us—the Goddess will not let us suffer apart for long.”
Baekhyun nodded, “I love you too, mother.”
And then he was alone. Alone when the first shrieks rose up from outside, loud and piercing in an already chaotic soundscape. Alone as he dragged sofas and beds in front of door. Alone when a sickening thump came from outside, followed by a sickening gurgle and groan indicating that someone’s attempt to pass swiftly had been fruitless.
Baekhyun was alone when he turned the polished silver handle on his bathtub and let it fill to the brim, and he was alone when he took off his shirt and sank into the water. The windows were too high for him to look out, and part of him was grateful that he couldn’t look out. What would he see if he did? He closed his eyes and the images came to his mind unbidden. More gray dust on the streets, trampled underfoot by the armored feet of the eastern army as they marched inward, leaving gritty, bloody footprints behind them. The palace was at the very center of the city, so they would come here last. But they would come.
Baekhyun opened his eyes again and fixed his gaze on his bare arms. The water in the bath was still and clear, and he could perfectly see the faint blue line that traced from his wrist up his arm. In his other hand, the metal of his knife shone wet. With one final glance at the dagger, Baekhyun closed his eyes again and waited.
He was in the bathtub long enough that the water began to cool around him, and Baekhyun felt his initial panic begin to fade as he was forced to wait for the ax to fall. His fear thrummed just beneath his skin, spiking when some new sound pierced the palace walls to inform him of what was happening outside. There was only shouting at first, then screaming, and finally he heard the sharp, rhythmic clang of metal armor marching close enough to be heard through the walls.
Tears that had not come until now rose up as he imagined his mother in a similar position just down the hallway. Would he hear her? The thought terrified him nearly as much as the alternative. If they mounted the stairs and he heard nothing, then it meant that she was already gone from him. Mother was devout, and fear of death wouldn’t stay her hand. Baekhyun had to place a hand against his lips to stop a sob from coming through as he imagined that she might already be a corpse, cold and bleeding mere feet from his own position.
The sound of metal on marble made Baekhyun tighten his grip on his dagger, but he remembered what his father had told them. There was a chance they would find his mother alone and move on, assuming that the rest of the household was out fighting the invading force. His knuckles were white as he prayed silently, selfishly asking for protection when the shouts of soldiers reached the top of the stairs.
Dull thumping let him know that they were breaking down his mother’s door, and tears fell down his face hot and fast when he heard the splintering wood, but no cries from his mother.
“No one alive.” One of the men shouted, “We should join the others and come back for valuables later.”
Baekhyun’s breath shuddered in his lungs, and he tried to picture what he would do next, if they left. After the initial invasion, they would need to start cleaning up. There would be dead to count and bodies to burn. Pillaging in earnest wouldn’t begin until the next sunrise, and with luck, Baekhyun would have enough time to gather supplies and escape the city. If he could get out alive, there would be a surviving heir. Their people would have a chance of survival.
“What about that door at the end of the hall? Did anyone open that up?”
Baekhyun’s heart thundered and leapt into his throat as someone tried the handle. “It’s locked up like the other one. Come help me get it open.”
They began pounding on his door, and Baekhyun understood that things were certain now. They would get in. They would take him. The path forward wavered and solidified, and he bent over double as he tried to gather his strength to do what must be done.
The ivory of the dagger’s handle was slippery in hand, but Baekhyun knew the water was necessary. It would speed things up.
The wood in the door cracked, and Baekhyun pressed the blade against his wrist. He whimpered as the metal bit into his skin and a thin stream of blood flowed out into the water. Behind him there was another massive crack against the door, and Baekhyun gritted his teeth together hard before dragging the knife up his arm in earnest, opening up a perfect slice from wrist to elbow. He gasped in pain and shock as his blood poured out in earnest, staining the bathtub red.
One final blow against the door took it down, and Baekhyun was distantly aware of shouting and metallic clanking as soldiers climbed over the furniture he had piled in front of the door, but he could not pay any attention to them as he was transfixed by the sight of his life flowing out of him. He’d been afraid that he wouldn’t be able to do it, when the time came, but the evidence that he was braver than he had thought was bleeding out right in front of him. Death before honor, father said. We will see each other again, mother said.
“Oh, no you don’t.” A voice snarled near his ear, but Baekhyun was too weak to turn towards it.
“This one’s still alive! Bring me some cloth!”
Warm hands hauled him out of the bathtub by the armpits, keeping a firm grip on him even as Baekhyun weakly tried to kick away in protest. Water and blood splashed out of the bathtub onto the tiles and pooled around Baekhyun as his vision began to go blurry. He whimpered as pressure was placed on his wounded arm, and he attempted to pull it away but found it firmly pinned to the floor.
“Don’t, don’t, don’t,” he babbled, fighting for consciousness, “Just let it. Please don’t.”
“Where’s that cloth?” Someone bellowed above him, and Baekhyun couldn’t put it off any longer. His vision went black, and his mind sunk down after it.
Hours later, Chanyeol sat with the sleeping prince in the medical tent, watching for any signs of returning consciousness.
“Who is this?”
Chanyeol looked up at the question to see Sehun ducking under the canvas flap into the tent with his helmet under his arm. His brother had made a minimal effort to clean himself up and dried blood still splattered his chest plate and boots.
“Yixing will have a fit if he sees you coming in here like that. It’s not sanitary.”
“The men said you had found someone interesting.” Sehun ignored him and walked over to peer at the man lying in front of Chanyeol, “I was curious who it was.”
Chanyeol couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across his face, and he raised a questioning eyebrow at Sehun, “Any guesses before I tell you?”
Sehun looked at him closely, “He looks young, and I don’t see any scars, so he’s probably not a general.” His eyes flicked up to Chanyeol to make sure he was on the right track, “If you’re so excited about it, he must be a royal then. A prince?”
“One of the Byuns.” Chanyeol confirmed, “But which one?”
“They said you found him in the palace, so it has to be the youngest. Baekhyun?”
Chanyeol nodded, “I think so.” His eyes sparkled with pride, “The precious jewel of the family, and he’s ours now.”
“Father will be pleased that you managed to take him alive. Will they add him to the loot pile when he’s well?”
“I don’t think so.” Chanyeol’s gaze drifted down to Baekhyun, “I think I’m going to keep this one.”